Read My Mind

by Natasha Preston

  “Yes, yes, we know. We’re just concerned. Perhaps you should try that Tinder?”

  I don’t know if I’m more horrified that he’s suggested I use it or that he knows what it is. “I’m perfectly capable of going out to meet a woman if I want to.”

  “All right. What time do you leave?”

  “Jason will be here any minute.”

  “I’ll let you go. Be careful.”

  “I will. Speak later.”

  I hang up and slide my phone in my pocket so I can finish packing a few last-minute things.

  Standing, I zip my holdall just as I hear Jason’s car pull up. I take my bag outside and lock the front door.

  “You ready for this?” he asks with a grin so wide, I know he’s thinking about the women on the nights out rather than the hiking.

  I throw my bag over my shoulder. “I’m ready.”

  Across the road, Mila pulls into her drive. Jason looks over.

  “What’s going on there?”

  “Nothing. She’s not been over in a few days.”

  “Is that odd?”

  “No.” It could be the fact that I almost kissed her, but we moved past that almost instantly, and she’s been over since. “She doesn’t need to come over. I was helping her, and now she’s getting on with it.”

  Though, I haven’t seen Liam all week.

  I load my bag into Jason’s boot and step back. Mila is in my peripheral.

  “She’s coming over,” Jason sings quietly. His smile, if possible, grows wider.

  Slamming his boot, I steel myself for this interaction.

  She doesn’t owe you anything.

  “Hey, Reid. Jason.” She says his name as an afterthought. “You off anywhere fun?”

  “Hey. We’re going to Wales. Lads’ weekend.”

  Her eyebrows rise. “Oh, cool. What are you doing there? Besides the obvious. I mean, boys’ weekends are all about getting laid. You should go and live it up, get wasted, find women, climb, and then…” She stops and frowns. “Never mind. I hope you both have a good time.”

  Jason chuckles under his breath. “Well, I intend to get laid multiple times. I mean, that’s what it’s all about. I’ll wait in the car, Reid.”

  I clench my jaw as he gets into the driver’s seat.

  “When are you back?” she asks.

  “Sunday night. Probably late. The drive takes about three hours.”

  “Okay.”

  “Did you need something?”

  She swings her hands behind her back. “All right, I’m not going to do the shy thing. I broke up with Liam that day I came over drunk. It was the right thing to do, and I’m all cool about it, but I was feeling guilty about being in your house afterwards… twice, after, actually. It seemed kind of shitty to end that relationship one minute and be in another man’s office the next.” She laughs nervously. “And I realise I just made that sound dirty. I didn’t think we were going to do anything, but… you know what I mean? So, I didn’t knock the other day when I wanted to, and then I didn’t knock yesterday or today because that all seemed weird.”

  Taking a breath, she goes again, while I stand frozen. “So, I took a couple of days to get my head straight—to focus on where I am and where I want to be. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you this the other night. I needed a minute. Should I have told you earlier? Should I be telling you now?”

  I run my hand over my face. She seems completely confused by all of this. There aren’t any rules. We’re not a couple.

  “Right,” I say.

  She winces. “Anyway, I should let you get to what sounds like a really slutty weekend.”

  “Mila,” I say, catching her hand as she begins to turn around. There is no way I’m letting her drop that bomb and walk away. “Thank you for telling me that. Are you okay?”

  She takes a step back, and I let go of her hand. “I’m fine. Better than fine. I’m sorry that I didn’t come over… not that you asked me to.”

  “I’m glad you’re okay.”

  There have been times in my life where I had to put myself first, too. It’s a necessity, despite how wrong it makes you feel… and selfish.

  “Thanks. Maybe when you’re back, I could finish that manuscript and talk to you about work experience at Wilson Press.”

  I nod. “I’ve been waiting for that one.”

  “We’ll talk later. You have a long drive ahead. Bye, Reid.” She waves and then walks away. Across the road.

  Without fucking looking again.

  I get into Jason’s car and watch her in the wing mirror until she goes home.

  “So she’s single,” he says.

  “I should have known you’d be listening.”

  “Of course, I was. When are you asking her out? Sunday night?”

  “Just drive, Jace.”

  “Three hours, buddy. We’re going to talk about this at some point.”

  “Not if I throw myself out of the car.”

  Mila and Liam might get back together eventually; that’s what they do. I want to be elated, but how can I be sure they won’t be loved up again before I’m home?

  “Such a baby. Forget her for now, man. We’re getting so fucking wasted tonight,” Jason says, grinning as if he can already taste the rum.

  “We need to book a taxi back to the house. I’m not spending another night sleeping outside a club.”

  “Sleeping? Reid, you passed out.” He laughs. “Then I did. Good times.”

  “I still have very little memory of that night.”

  “You scored the hottie with the tats. I was pissed.”

  I roll my eyes. “Calling a woman your next conquest to her face is never going to work.”

  “I was drunk! No one should take you seriously when you’re wasted.”

  “No one should take you seriously, ever.”

  “Behave,” he mutters, chuckling. “There’s a flask of rum on the floor in front of your seat.”

  “You’re going to watch me drink for three hours while you drive?”

  “If it takes you three hours to drink that flask, I’m taking you back home now.”

  I shake my head, pick up the flask, and I take a swig. Mila’s back, I have a boys’ weekend ahead of me, and now I have rum.

  Thirteen

  Mila

  Liam has been out of my life for a whole week, and I’m okay.

  In that week, I’ve studied hard, turned an assignment in early, and I’ve worked on my own book. It feels really good to finally have a path—one full of books and possibilities. I have a general direction to go in, but so much can happen on the way. And you know what? I have no idea what I’ll be eating every Sunday.

  It’s been a long weekend, and it’s now Sunday night. Reid will be home sometime soon, I hope.

  He text me Mel’s email on Friday after we spoke so I could contact her. I sent the email yesterday morning and she called me straight away to offer me the month-long work experience I need.

  I’ll be splitting the month between different jobs there, and I can’t wait. If I’m honest, I wanted Reid to sit with me the whole time, but it’s probably for the best that he’s not my boss. The power might go to his head. I wonder if he has an authoritative side to him. Maybe at work.

  I’d love to experience Reid Walker in charge.

  I miss sitting in the middle of his books… and I’ve missed speaking to him. How can I be so captivated by him after the two days we’ve spent together? It doesn’t make sense.

  It’s almost ten p.m. now. How late did they leave Wales?

  Maybe I should leave it until tomorrow evening, after work. That’s what a sane person would do. But I’m craving that cosy office with the great coffee and even better company.

  Finally, I see Jason’s car pull up outside his house.

  Yeah, I’ve been watching out of my window like the little stalker I’ve become over the weekend.

  Who can resist Reid Walker? Not this girl.

  I watch him pick up his bag and ha
ve a brief conversation with Jason. Then, he’s alone and going into his house. I wonder if he’s spent the whole weekend alone. No, there’s no need to think about him with other women. There was probably sex. He’s single, sexy as sin, and on a fucking lads’ weekend away. Everyone who is single should have been getting frisky.

  I ignore the sting in my chest, and I go downstairs. That’s enough time, right? He would have been able to throw his bag down and put water in his coffee machine by now.

  Mum and Dad are out because they have a much better social life than I do. That means no one is around to give me that super irritating going-to-see-a-man look. Mum would be full of hope. Dad dread.

  I leave the house and cross the quiet little road that separates us.

  My heart flutters as I knock on his door and wait. It’s been a while since I was here. What if he prefers to work alone again? I didn’t tell him I was coming tonight, but it isn’t like we have a schedule. In fact, I was probably doing him a favour staying away for a while. I bet he got loads done since I stopped coming over.

  The door opens a second later, and my jaw almost falls off. Reid is standing in a pair of grey joggers. Only a pair of grey joggers.

  Well, hello there.

  Don’t say anything stupid.

  “Hey,” he says.

  Erm…

  My mouth salivates.

  “You have abs. Like, abs.”

  I knew Reid worked out but not this hard. His chest looks like it’s been carved from stone.

  His lips curl. “I go to the gym, Mila.”

  “Yeah, I know but… yeah.”

  His eyes are glowing. “Did you want something?”

  To lick your chest.

  “I want books.”

  He steps to the side and lets me in. I walk past him, my arm brushing his, creating a tingling, burning sensation on my skin.

  “I need to take a quick shower after that drive,” he says before he clears his throat.

  “I’ll fill up the coffee machine with water—promise not to break it—and then wait for you to come back down. I want to hear all about your weekend.”

  He hesitates for a second before nodding. I watch him head up the stairs.

  Oh, Lord. Back. Muscle.

  I force my jaw shut with a push from my index finger, and I walk past his discarded bag on the floor. That is one hot man.

  When Reid returns five minutes later, he’s wearing a new pair of joggers and a plain white T-shirt. His hair is damp like the grass at dawn, and I long to run my fingers through it.

  No, stop being crazy.

  “So, how was it?” I ask as he heads straight for the coffee machine. “You’ll see the perfect water level in there.”

  He looks over his shoulder. “Good. The hiking was hard work on the way up.”

  “I bet all the alcohol helped afterwards.”

  And the women.

  “It did until the following morning.”

  “Hiking with a hangover while being sexed-out.”

  “Would not recommend,” he replies. “Uni okay?”

  Is that a confirmation of the sexed-out thing? “Yeah. I’m more excited about work experience. Mel seemed really nice on the phone.”

  “Yeah, she said she’d spoken to you. You’ll love her. She’s a good boss, very chilled, understands that people work differently, and she goes with it to get the best out of her employees.”

  “Like letting you work from home two days a week?”

  He nods. “I work best without people around.”

  I wince. “I’ve not been very helpful.”

  “You’re not people.”

  What? I’m not a person? Like, I’m too weird to be classed as a human. Frowning, I say, “Thank you...”

  “You know how I meant that.”

  “Yeah, actually, I think I do. You’re not people to me, either.” I flip the page of the book open, the one he’d left on the breakfast bar, and I smile at the worn pages. I can imagine him sitting in bed reading this. And yes, he is naked.

  “That’s a good book,” he says, finishing up the coffees.

  “I haven’t read it yet,” I reply, already starting the first chapter.

  Reid startles me when he puts my latte down a minute later.

  “Oh my God! Make noise!”

  He smirks. “Sorry, should I call your name when it’s ready for you to collect?”

  “Only if you’re going to write my name on the mug… and misspell it. I’ve actually had people spell it M-E-L-A.”

  “Can I read this short story yet? The one you were working on for uni.”

  “Yes, you can now that my lecturer said it’s not total shit. Score.”

  “She used those words?”

  “Well, no. She’s nice. Too nice sometimes. She didn’t tell Harvey that his sex scene was shit when he tried to write a woman’s perspective.”

  He nods. “All right, give it to me.”

  “Reid, how forward.”

  He doesn’t move or react at all, but his eyes do this stormy thing that makes my knees weak.

  “Are you broken?” I ask.

  “Is your head out of the gutter?”

  “Not recently,” I admit.

  Picking up my coffee, I walk into his office, and he follows. God, he smells good.

  In my head, he’s back in the shower and water is running down those abs. Lucky. Water.

  I sit down on the seat he’s built under the bay window, and I cross my legs. It’s now officially my favourite place in his whole house. I can’t wait to read here when it rains. Good thing for me, it does that often in England.

  After a sip of the latte, I place it on a little end table, and I wait. I’m not allowed to go into his drawers.

  Reid pulls the part-finished manuscript out of his desk and passes it over. His fingers brush mine as I take it from him. First our arms and now our fingers. I press my lips together as heat twists inside my stomach.

  He’s standing above me, looking down like there’s a million other things he’d rather we were doing right now. He takes a breath and releases the papers. “This is about three quarters done, apparently. Let me know what you think. Not that you would keep it to yourself.”

  I pout, and his eyes tighten.

  “What are you going to do?” I ask.

  “I have submissions to read.”

  “Seriously? Can I read them after you?”

  His mouth curves at the sides, despite him trying to keep a straight face. We both know I’ll read them and give him my opinion.

  It’s interesting, and he’s interested in my writing and in my opinions.

  Wren and Indie will talk about that stuff, but it’s not quite the same. Reid is a book person, and I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to talk to him properly. We could have been doing this for years.

  “This a thriller?” I ask, holding up the part-finished manuscript that he’d briefly shown me before.

  “No. It’s very different to what I usually edit. It’s more of a… journey.”

  “To where?”

  “Not a place, Mila. Read it and see what you think.”

  “Have you finished it?”

  He nods. “I’m waiting for the rest.”

  “I’ll tell you if it’s shite and not worth publishing in a minute.”

  Chuckling, he clicks something on his laptop. “Of course.”

  I tuck my legs under me and lean against the window. The sky has been so moody all day, which means I might get lucky and see some rain tonight. The streetlights will make it visible. I need to bring a candle with me and really get the cosy atmosphere going in here. I’m not sure what Reid will think of that, but this is basically my office now, too.

  I turn the blank page—no title yet—and begin.

  By the fifth chapter, I’m almost in tears. It’s raw and emotional, about a man named Hayden who’s a bit lost and wading through the grief of finding his grandad dead. He blames himself because he was due to be at his ear
lier that day but got caught up. His grandad died of a heart attack alone, and Hayden feels guilty because he thinks his grandad was calling out for him, wondering why he wasn’t there.

  “Reid,” I breathe.

  He looks up, and his face falls. “Are you crying?”

  “This is awful.”

  “Awful?”

  I swallow a thick lump in my throat. “Not bad awful. Emotional. Beautiful. Publish it.”

  “How much have you read?”

  “The first five chapters.”

  “Mila, there is more to go. It’s not all like that. Keep an open mind. I’m not sure how it will end yet, either.”

  I wipe my eyes. “If there’s no HEA, I will throw a fit!”

  “Not everyone gets a happy ever after.”

  “That’s unacceptable.”

  He smiles sadly. “That’s life.”

  I don’t want that to be life for him. I want to get up and go over to his desk, to take away whatever pain is behind his eyes right now. But I can’t move. He holds my gaze, and there are a thousand questions behind his expression. I don’t know the answer to any of them, but I want to.

  I could move now—go to him and ask.

  The air thickens as we watch each other like two predators. Who will leap first?

  Before I can talk some courage into myself, he let’s go, and I know the moment has passed.

  I turn back to the manuscript with a heavy heart, full of regret.

  Fourteen

  Reid

  The next week wizzes by. Mila and I have fallen into a pattern of hanging out in the evenings, reading, watching TV, and drinking coffee together.

  Since I opened submissions, she’s been helping me read through the first chapters. It seems to be one of her favourite things to do. She loves the good and bad, and it brings her here almost every evening. Occasionally, I’m allowed to read some of her book, too.

  I should be thrilled that’s she’s around all the time—I am—but I’m also anxious. How much time does she need to be single? I would assume she needs longer than two weeks, considering the length of her last relationship.

  From the little I’ve been told about Liam, they haven’t spoken to each other since the split, and they’ve agreed not to for a year.